


Starting from Zero

by nekosmuse_archive (nekosmuse)



Category: Without a Trace
Genre: Domestic, Living Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23752546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekosmuse/pseuds/nekosmuse_archive
Summary: Written pre 2005. Posting for archival purposes.Just an average Sunday.
Relationships: Martin Fitzgerald/Danny Taylor
Kudos: 5





	Starting from Zero

They've never actually talked about it.

Not that Danny's ever been one to talk things over. Not when he's used to navigating by instinct alone --taking things one step at a time because over-analysing situations tends to get him into trouble. But sometimes he thinks that maybe they should talk more, because obviously their current system is still a complete mystery to him.

But that is the essence of Martin, he's decided, because Martin is, in and of himself, a mystery. One that Danny's certain can be solved if only he could figure out how to put the pieces together and *that* is essentially the problem, because he doesn't have a clue. Doesn't even know where to begin and when Martin moves from the kitchen to the living room, leaving a tidy path in his wake, Danny finds himself wondering just what he's gotten himself into.

Really, it's graceful in a way; watching Martin move from room to room, purpose and intent etched onto his features as he picks up a glass here, a paper there. Each motion is fluent, made with minimal resistant until Martin almost glides, pausing only to set a toss pillow just right before he's moving again, the room transforming before Danny's eyes and, in that moment, Danny's certain there must be some logical pattern to Martin's seemingly erratic system.

"Are you done with that?" Martin asks somewhat suddenly, appearing almost instantly at Danny's side, arm outstretched and Danny blinks before realizing that Martin's talking about the coffee cup in his hand.

"I... um..."

And what he wants to say is no. That he's not actually done because the cup is still half full (cold now, but that's hardly the point). Instead he finds himself nodding, handing over what's left of his morning coffee and off Martin goes, falling back into the stream of his Sunday morning and Danny's left even more confused that he was to begin with.

He always knew Martin was a tidy person. He's seen Martin's desk, each file placed with perfect precision, each pen lined neatly according to frequency of use. He's seen Martin's apartment, sink void of dirty dishes, bed always made regardless of the hour they happen to fall into it. He's even seen Martin's car, the lingering scent of pine a constant that Danny's come to associate with Martin, but this, this is new.

Because he's never actually lived with Martin before. Never seen Martin in action and, if it were anyone besides Martin, Danny would probably be alarmed enough to start packing. But it is Martin, the very same Martin he's spent the last four years pining over. The very same Martin he's spent the last year chasing. The very same Martin he's spent the last six months waking up next to.

The very same Martin who, instead of asking Danny to move in, simply handed him a key, casually mentioning that Danny was paying entirely too much in rent and telling Danny that the logical solution would be to live together. 

The very same Martin who smiled softly when Danny swapped his key for Martin's, right there in the middle of Martin's kitchen, like this was all agreed upon months ago.

The very same Martin's who's currently dusting the leaves of his plants.

"Um..."

It's one of those situations Danny's never been trained for, because how does one go about accusing their boyfriend of being insane?

"Martin?" he tries again, and this time Martin pauses, glancing over, arching an eyebrow and Danny gets the distinct impression that Martin is annoyed at being interrupted.

"Do you need a hand?" Danny asks, and he's not sure who's more shocked --him or Martin, because, really, it was the last thing Danny intended to say.

"Sure, I left the trash by the front door. You could take it out," Martin suggests, smiling softly and, for some reason Danny can't quite fathom, Danny's almost giddy at the prospect of lending Martin a hand.

Martin doesn't say anything when Danny stands, moving toward the door in slow motion, like this is all some sort of dream, but Danny can tell he's happy. He's smiling, anyway, and even though taking out the trash would have been the last chore Danny asked for, he's more than happy to do it, because it means contributing to Martin's system and that makes it a little easier to figure out.

Not that he'll ever figure it out. Not when the days have turned into weeks, the weeks into months and even years later Danny will still feel just a little bit intimidated by Martin's ability to run a household. But even that doesn't matter, because it works and, really, in the long run, that's all that matters.

Besides, taking out the trash isn't that bad and every time he does it, it earns him a soft, lingering kiss, so Danny's not about to complain.


End file.
